This time last year-.

This time last year we were not friends.
This time last year we were not friends, either.
I'm glad that we changed.
I'm glad we are friends now.
Although I'm not sure how we happened.

But we happened.
This time last year-
it's not that I didn't like you;
it's not that you didn't like me,
but I was here,
and you were not.
You were there
and I was not.
Then we happened upon the same place where we laughed, cried, and tried to tell each other a few lies,
but we were quickly undone when our boundaries faltered,
crumbling heavily and loudly onto the ground.
This time last year we wanted protection-
searched everywhere within- why didn't it occur to us to look out?

This time last year we were not friends.
This time last year we did not know we could trust each other so well.
This time last year we were strangers.
This time this year I am glad we can be different together.

Thought of you, Precious!

I am a big believer in sentiment. It's a weakness. More like an obsession. An obsession that gives way to weakness: to poor spending.

I enjoy window shopping, and have gotten better at controlling my spending, but seriously, if I see something that reminds me of one of my best friends, well, I have to buy it and give it to them as a surprise gift!

In fact, I have one friend who loves Paris, so if I find anything Parisian, it's hers.

"Look! I got you a necklace of the Eiffel Tower! Oh, too big?" 

"I made you a croissant! Kind of. It's actually just a roll."

"French flag! You can put it next to the British one I got you!" 

 "I thought of you and wanted you to have it" is a sentence of which my friends are extremely familiar. I don't think that makes me a stalker... I just know my friends well! But it's their fault my bank account's in the negative.




A few years ago I lost my ring. The ring I've had since I was a sophomore in high school. No one gave it to me. It had no diamond. It just had the word 'Laugh' engraved on it, and God forbid I forget that I love laughing if I don't have my ring to remind me!

So, I lost my ring, and I went all-Gollum on it: panicked frenzied: Where's the Precious?! When I couldn't find it, I had to go on with the rest of my day, but I felt so naked, and every time I went to play with it and was reminded of its absence. I wondered if anyone would notice. I wondered if my ring was sitting up high in some bird's nest because the bird thought it was shiny and all things shiny belong to birds!

Except I had no Bilbo Baggins who too wanted my ring. It was just me.

With the utmost determination I flew back to my room (after classes were over) and searched and searched. I almost began to cry, when, I felt in my pants' pocket. And this was my reaction:

Although. My ring wasn't forged in Mt. Doom.

And I don't think I look like that.

I put it on and felt clothed: everything was back to normal.




I don't know what exactly has changed since then but now when I lose my ring, or any piece of jewelry, I'm just kind'a like, "Eh. I'm sure it'll turn up sooner or later."

I think, perhaps, I've found that whatever identity I do possess isn't defined by the things I own; the things I wear. I mean, yes, I pick the things I do because I like them- a girl doesn't just buy a Perry the Platypus shirt without first loving Phineas and Ferb!- but, unless the next item I purchase is going to have the answer to all life's questions written on it I think I can learn to do without it.

Besides, maybe all shiny things do belong to the birds. Ain't no Hitchcock film I'm living in.

Keep it, little birdie. Drop it onto someone else's head and let them enjoy it.

I'm a big believer in sentiment. Mostly because I like to give it away. 

We go together like...

Growing up I wanted to know how many friends I had, or could have. What middle schooler didn't want to know how many friends he or she had? You can imagine my disappointment when shopping in Claire's all the BFF jewelry could only be split between two, or among three, and I totally had more BFFs than that in middle school! But I just couldn't find any jewelry that could be shared among, at least, fifteen best friends. 

But I didn't really have fifteen best friends. I only had one. I think, at the time, I could only handle one best friend at a time. I mean, I liked talking to lots of different people, but I think middle schoolers are sometimes too insecure to know what to do with so many best friends which explain a lot of premature 'somebody I used to know' stories. 

So, I went on a walk this morning, by myself. Well, me and God. Or, at least, I was on my way to see him. I had to tell him something. 

I sat and started to write out a prayer. Short, simple; lots of lookingintothedistance, wondering what else to tell God. When a thought occurred to me: I don't have to be anywhere. I don't have my own thinking spot. I don't have a place where, if I ran away, people would intuitively know to find me. I don't have to be somewhere in order to talk to God. I just need to start talking...praying. 

I should be able to be anywhere and still feel close to those who are closest to me: something I couldn't understand as a middle schooler. 

On my walk back home I found these two puzzle pieces. They do not go together. 

These two pieces would make a horrible BFF necklace, bracelet or ring. 

But when you turn one of the pieces over...

They may not be right next to each other, but it is evident they are pieces of the same puzzle.

I don't have to be anywhere.

What if, really, we weren't just two pieces. A Romeo and Juliet; a Sherlock and John; lovers. A pair of friends are always excited to be joined by a third. 

I don't have to be your conjoined twin to know we get along, especially not at first glance--we might be as insecure as middle schoolers before we can know we're really part of the same puzzle. 

What if I never really knew my fifteen middle school friends because one of us was wearing a mask, and here we are, older, somewhat mask-less, and really, very similar. Yes! We really do want to do the same things! yes! We really are interested in the same things! Yes! We can talk to other people without throwing fits of intense jealousy or rage. We don't belong to each other. It's not us against the world! I am who I am because of the other puzzle pieces I've met along the way. 

Whether we were part of the same puzzle, or our crooks fit well together; whether we were completely abhorred by the other--doesn't matter. 

I may not find the right BFF necklace in Claire's to share with all my good friends. But it's good to know that I am part of a small piece of a huge puzzle, and that we're being put together by God. 

No, I don't have to be anywhere. 

Anyone that I used to know I may not have really known. 

Besides, whoever heard of a puzzle with only two pieces? Whoever ate peanut butter and jelly without bread? Even gluten-free bread! 

When I have good news I like to share it.

May I only be brave enough to be.